In your dreams
by TheRedPoet
Summary: Discipline is an important aspect of an apprentice's education.


A/n: Shout-out to Basium for her help.

* * *

The repaired and improved steel security door of my apartment groaned in protest as it was pushed open and Molly Carpenter, my apprentice, came through. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank-top, her blonde hair sticking to her neck and forehead, a healthy sheen of sweat on her skin.

"You're late," I said, glancing at my wristwatch for effect. "Forty-two minutes late."

She gave me a sheepish grin. "Sorry, boss."

I remained seated in my comfortable, second-hand chair. Molly slung a pack into one of my chairs and stretched in place, the motion drawing her shirt up and baring the flat plain of her stomach and the golden piercing there. It was a distracting sight on the best of days but I didn't let it draw me off topic.

"It's the fourth time in three weeks."

"Oh come on, that's-"

"Molly…" It came out sounding equal parts weary and annoyed.

"I know, I know," she said. "I'm here now, though. Do you wanna get going?"

She headed over to the kitchen stove and poured herself a glass of water, downing it, refilling, and repeating the process. She was trying to avoid the argument – again – despite repeated lessons on responsibility.

"It's a zillion degrees out there," she complained.

"Molly."

The girl froze at the sharpness of my voice. Slowly, she turned my way and put the mostly empty glass down on the sink. Her eyes widened and she stared at me. I didn't raise my voice with her often.

"Come over here."

She did, walking by in an almost in a dreamlike haze until she stood in front of me.

"Harry, I'm-"

I held up a finger and growled. "Quiet."

She shut up, eyes downcast and intent on her bright pink sneakers.

"I'm taking time out of my job to teach you Molly. That doesn't just mean I'm losing out on money. It means that people who might need my help aren't getting it because you can't get here on fucking time."

The girl nodded. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment. "Okay."

I sighed. "Yeah. You said that last time… And the time before that. It's time that we make sure the lesson sticks."

She shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "Do you want me to clean up the lab or something?"

"No. I've got another idea." I patted my knee. "Lay down here."

For a few seconds she just stared at me, eyes as wide as saucers. "Listen, I'm sorry I was late, okay?"

I nodded. "I know. Now hop up, Padawan."

She did as I'd told her with some hesitance, laying down across my knees, shuffling around until she got comfortable. I laid my hand down on her rear... Her lovely, shapely, firm rear, and waited a moment for effect. Then I smacked my palm down against it. Molly made a soft squeaking noise of surprise.

"Forty-two minutes late, wasn't it?" I said.

"Mm-hmm." The sound came from between tightly pressed lips.

"Forty-one to go, then. Keep count."

I struck her again… And again. Then I figured, what the hell, and slipped my fingers inside the hemline of her shorts, pulling them down along with her white lace panties, and leaving them at her knees. I looked. There really wasn't any way of not looking or being coy at this point, so yeah, I looked. I let my eyes drift along the curve of her ass, over her smooth thighs, and the light glint of gold at her sex. I definitely hadn't imagined that piercing the first time around. My mouth watered and my fingers itched to stray. She was… gorgeous.

"So… Are you gonna get on with this today?" She sounded a little smug.

"I'm waiting for you to count."

She let out a soft laugh. "Forty-one. Forty. Th-thirty-nine."

"Better," I said. "Maybe if you keep that up we'll get done with something on schedule today."

"Yes, sir," she breathed.

Molly crossed her legs at the ankles, pressing her thighs together as I kept raining blows down on her to keep some modicum of her modesty. By the time we reached thirty, her skin had gone pink and each strike was answered with a little yelp.

"Thirty," she panted, wiggling in my lap as I rested my hand on the curve of her ass.

"Are you alright?" A little worry slipped into voice despite my attempt to keep it neutral.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She grinned. "Chickening out already?"

I eyed her where she lay, head tilted up to look at me with a smug little smirk. By all means, then. I struck her again, and again, pausing only to hear her count out each in turn until we reached twenty. Molly's breath was ragged now, her ass turning from pink to red. She was shivering where she lay, wiggling around in my lap and brushing up against my erection. Odd. I hadn't ever really thought this was my kind of thing.

I frowned, watching her a little more intently. She couldn't be enjoying this, could she? Surely not…

I traced the curve of her ass with my hand and she tensed again, as it anticipating a blow. It never came. Instead, my touch drifted down along her thigh. Molly drew a slow, rasping breath, squeezing her thighs together in a gesture I realized had nothing to do with modesty, and then she slowly parted her legs for me.

Curiosity got the better of me. I slipped my hand in between her thighs. I found her wet, and not just a little. From me. From this. She let out a choked cry as my finger, the one still bearing a leather glove to cover the mildly horrific burn scars, swiped gently across her clit.

"Quiet," I whispered to her. "Or I'll have to get you a gag."

She nodded and choked down her groan as I slowly slipped a finger inside of her. My free hand striking down at irregular intervals, each answered with a stifled whimper. I added a second finger and Molly pressed her hand to her mouth.

I stopped when there were three more to go.

She looked back at me when I began to rub her ass. I lifted my hand, watching her tense and give a preemptive mewl of protest. When she relaxed, I struck.

"T - two!"

I pulled my fingers back, rubbing a slow circle around her opening. Making her wait was definitely cruel - almost as though there was a lesson to be learned. Her hips moved into the touch, wriggling in an effort to take my fingers back in.

"Ah, ah, ah. Patience. Virtue. It's a saying for a reason."

I took the opportunity to strike.

"One!"

"How many more does that make it?" I said, trying to keep a faux-Transylvanian accent out of my voice.

"One." her purr was desperate.

I pushed a finger into her again, "Is that all you want?"

I flexed my finger inside her, rubbing her on my way out, giving her ass a squeeze with my free hand, "Well?"

She mewled again, swallowing audibly and pushed her ass higher in the air. I pushed my finger back in. "Faster…"

My fingers left her sex, "This isn't for fun. How many more do you have?"

"Just one… please, just one more."

I raised my hand again – and suddenly stopped, freezing in place, as still as a statue. There was a sharp, jerking sensation and I was pulled back, my perspective shifting abruptly, until I realized I was watching myself and Molly sit there, the edges of the image blurred like an old VCR on pause.

The vision fractured and more formed up alongside countless others in little bubbles. Molly, straddling me in that same chair, breasts heaving as she rode me. The two of us curled up together in front of the fireplace as a snowstorm beat down on the apartment outside its windows. Molly, wearing nothing but my leather coat, tattoos showing in the open gap at its center. Most were set here, in my apartment, but there were a couple of exotic and wildly inappropriate locations there, too. Among them, St Mary's of the Angels church and the tree house at the back of the Carpenter's garden.

And then I spotted it: The subtle touch of another mind and will, influencing my own and Molly's. I severed the connection between Molly's mind and my own, and suddenly we were back in my living room. The both of us were seated in the sofa, facing one another, as we had been at the beginning our lesson in mind magic. Things had changed since then. Afternoon had turned into dusk and the room was comfortably cool, even as gentle sunlight poked in through the windows of my basement apartment. Despite the temperature we were both soaked in sweat. My jeans and western shirt wasn't that bad, though I could feel it stick to my back. Molly's white tank-top, however, hadn't fared as well. The material had gotten see-through to the point where her lacy bra could be seen underneath. Her neon-streaked hair hung down across her flushed cheeks, and her blue eyes were just a touch glassy.

"I think this concludes the lesson for today," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. I made to stand, then thought better of it. Jeans or no, I was still painfully hard, and it showed.

Molly's gaze drifted over me at a lazy crawl, and she definitely took note. A smile slipped over her lips, but a moment later, it was replaced with realization, and then horror.

"I didn't do it," she said. "I swear, I didn't. I don't even know how you could see those – uh –"

"Fantasies?" I filled in, chuckling. "It's okay, kid."

I scooted over a little closer until my knees were brushing up against hers and my hands on her shoulders. A shudder ran down her body, much like the one from one of the earlier, when she'd been in the throes of ecstasy as I – I quickly veered off that particular line of thought.

"Something else got to us, I think," I said. "I'm looking into it. We'll keep going tomorrow like we planned to."

Her eyes sought out mine and her panic seemed to fade. "Oh. Okay. Good."

She got to her feet, legs seeming to be a little unsteady under her, and headed to the door.

"Hey Molly," I said.

She paused with her hand on the handle. "Yeah?"

"Don't be late."

I winked at her and she blushed even as she grinned. "Gotcha boss."

She headed out the door and I leaned back in the sofa with a ponderous sigh. I needed a cold shower in the worst kind of way, but first…

"Lasciel," I said, speaking through clenched teeth. "Let's have a chat about boundaries."

The fallen angel appeared in the spot Molly had recently vacated, her feet bare, her white toga bunched up by her thighs. Her smile was perfectly innocent. One might go so far as to call it angelic.

"Are you planning on spanking me before or after?"


End file.
